


washing out war

by helenaklein



Category: Love & Legends (Visual Novel)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, POV Second Person, Past Abuse, Prompt Fill, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 18:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17473088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helenaklein/pseuds/helenaklein
Summary: Collection of Helena x MC prompt-fills originally posted to tumblr





	1. as the storm rages outside

**Author's Note:**

> MC wakes to find Helena isn't in bed with her. She isn't pleased.
> 
> Set after the war. Fluff.

The rain beats a steady rhythm against the roof of the inn, providing a constant yet unpredictable and ever-changing melody to your morning’s first moments. Your grip on consciousness is still tenuous at best as you reach out to the space beside you before even opening your eyes. A disgruntled groan rumbles from deep in your throat at finding it empty but still warm.

Sleep-addled, deeply displeased, and in need of immediate rectification, your groan quickly evolves into a muffled call that you can only hope resembles a name.

“Hhhhhhelena…”

The sound of laughter— shy but joyful, always surprising but never unwelcome — greets you from across the modest room.

“Good morning, my love.”

Finally you crack your eyes open. There’s little light coming in from the window, save for the occasional flash of lightning, all brightness instead radiating outwards from the fireplace. Helena sits at the tiny table in the room, using the light of the fire to read from a book held up in her left hand while sketching notes and diagrams in her cursive scrawl with her right.

Her pace is unhurried, her gaze alight with interest. You smile at the sight.

The freedom to enjoy her studies at her own pace, without the pressure of the Witch Queen or the war breathing down Helena’s neck, was hard-won but worth it. She’s never more in her element than when mastering something she finds fascinating, and you’ve yet to encounter anything that bores her. You’re glad for the heavier loads on your travels if it means she can take pleasure in her books wherever you are. Watching her progress from habitual frustration and self-blame in the face of challenges to openly discussing concepts that elude her until something clicks has been its own reward.

Not to mention the way your heart swells every time she allows herself to take pride in all she’s learned and accomplished.

Your chest tightens and it’s a signal to pull yourself from that train of thought. No need to start crying because you love her. Again.

Sitting up to take stock of the world around you, you realize that the storm outside is baring down more heavily than you first thought. There’s little pause between bursts of lightning and the sound of booming thunderclaps. You see Helena’s shoulders tense and relax more than once.

Some habits are harder to break.

“Aren’t you glad we decided to hold off on leaving for another day?” Your voice is light, but you are quite relieved yesterday’s laziness means not having to brave this freak weather.

An amused smile plays across Helena’s features, the corner of her mouth tilting upwards. “Mmm, luring me back into bed each time I meant to make use of the daylight yesterday was a stroke of genius.”

“It was strategy.”

“Of course,” She holds your gaze as the memory of exactly how  _strategic_ you were yesterday lingers between you. Heat rises to your cheeks, only fading once she takes mercy on you by returning her eyes to her book. 

Truthfully, you’ve just been feeling particularly needy lately. Things have finally settled into what feels like a normal pace after so long of perpetual fear and fighting for your lives. There’s no more wistfully fantasizing about what life may be like on the off chance everyone survives. You’ve made it to the other side, made it to the part where you live happily ever after with the woman you adore more than you thought possible. And “overwhelmingly emotional” to sum up the experience is an understatement.

You swear that there’s more love, gratitude, and hope inside of you than what your heart can hold, and you’d let your body burst before you’d risk letting go of any of it.

Sometimes you just need someone close to help you keep it all together. There’s nothing wrong with that, besides how cheesy YA-fiction it seems to feel as if you love someone too much for it to exist within the bounds of a single dimension.

“It was good luck. Asta and her neighbors will likely need assistance recovering. No one had the chance to prepare properly.”

“Good thing we have the time to spare.”

All the time in the world, really.

The truth of the statement brings your half-awake self’s hierarchy of needs back to the forefront of your mind, and despite the inarticulate nature of a list that goes like “1) Helena 2) close 3) warm 4) sleeeeeepppppp”, you’ve gotta admit that your priorities are probably never more in order than when you’re barely conscious. It’s science, probably.

Even still, you’d like to think that mostly-awake you has a little bit more tact than saying outright that you might self-destruct if she doesn’t come hold you, regardless of how true it feels. And you don’t want to interrupt her if she’s on the verge of some breakthrough.

“So… anything interesting?”

You pray the question sounded more subtle than you think it sounded.

Helena’s eyes flicker towards you, and she reads everything you’re feeling in an instant. You suspect it should be frightening to be known so deeply. It isn’t. Not when it’s her.

Helena reaches the bedside so quickly she may have actually teleported to it. She takes you into her arms, and let’s you pull her so close that she finally feels solid enough, stable enough, real enough against you to settle your heart. She’s caught you before you’ve even fallen. She whispers her love over and over again, pausing only to bless your skin with gentle kisses.

You suspect it will take quite some time before you no longer fear that it’ll all slip away when you’re not looking. But you have all you need to weather such storms.


	2. broken, as you beg me not to leave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena leaves her heart behind in order to save it.
> 
> AU. Angst. Helena's POV.

Calm settles over you the moment you realize what must be done.

It is not the way you expected to feel right before walking into another battle with your monsters, all too accustomed to being wracked with fear and nearly overtaken with the urge to flee. Most times like these, you find it difficult to inhabit your own body, as if your terror has expanded and left no room in your chest for your soul to remain.

She calms you. Strengthens you.

And the knowledge that you are protecting her now is all that keeps your hands from shaking.

She smiles up at you, stalwart and steadfast as ever, telling you that you are both ready for whatever comes so long as you are together.

She is ready to die for this. To die for you.

But you will not let that happen. Too much has been lost along this journey of yours, and you refuse to let her light be snuffed out in your name. Especially by  _her_ hand.

You take her into your arms, and press a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“I will not let her hurt you.”

“I know you won’t.”

Her faith in you is unwavering, and it inspires a belief in yourself you thought impossible. You are not afraid of taking this next step without her. You are never without her, not truly.

She holds onto you tightly as you whisper a few words in her ear.

The effects of the spell are immediate. Your arms are all that keep her from collapsing as her knees give out, her grip on you loosening.

A gasp escapes her lips, confusion and exhaustion pervading her voice, “Helena… w-what… did you…?”

“Forgive me.”

She’s limp in your arms as you lift her and move her to the bed you have shared. Stubborn as ever, she fights the fatigue washing over her, desperately trying to keep her eyes open like you will disappear the moment she looks away, and clutching your cloak as firmly as she’s able as if her hands are all that keep you grounded in this life.

Her voice is no more than a whisper now, “d… don’t. Please… d…”

There is an earnestness to her gaze despite her consciousness fading quickly. A single tear escapes from her gray eyes and, of all the times she has cried for you, you suspect this might have been the one that broke her.

You stay close as she continues to fall asleep, tracing over the lines of her face with the back of your hand, committing each to memory as if you had not already a hundred times before.

“We must keep the most delicate pieces of ourselves protected in battle, and I can think of no part of me so precious as you.”

She may live to hate you, but she will live.

And that is the only assurance you need to go on.

“Rest now, my love. When you wake, I…” You can think of few promises that might bring her comfort, unwilling to taint these last moments further with the bitterness of a broken vow. “I will be on my way back to you, one way or another.”


	3. over and over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MC nearly dies. Helena doesn't handle it well.
> 
> Set shortly after the season 5 finale. Angst-y

The first thing you notice when you come-to is soreness in your neck unlike any you’ve felt before. The ache spreads outwards to parts of you you’re rarely conscious of, making you aware of exactly how much body you have to hurt. It feels like the aftermath of pulling an all-night study session before finals and waking up in the most uncomfortable campus library chair known to man, if the chair was also being dangled from a tree like a piñata with you in it and instead of being hit with a bat repeatedly someone decided to use a semi-truck.

The world is a blur. Sight, sound, and memory require levels of energy you find difficult to muster. Try as you might to fit the disparate pieces together quickly, the best you can do is lie still and wait for it all to make sense before you.

Two hands, large and gentle, press insistently against your chest, their weight providing a soothing warmth. Another traces delicately down the lines of your face, calling you closer to life with every motion.

A fire crackles nearby. The light of the moon above meets your eyes, illuminating shapes of blue and red. Something about the blue needs you. You heard it scream. The memory makes you flinch, and you push harder.

“She lives. My physicians will be able to do more for her recovery, but the worst has passed.” 

You try not to let the surprise laced within the low voice break your concentration. 

Blue sharpens slowly, and she is the first thing you see.

Tears flow freely down her cheeks. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy. Smeared makeup mixes with dried blood, coloring her features. She leans heavily against the tree trunk behind her, and you suspect it might be the only thing keeping her upright. More exhausted than you’ve ever seen her, she cradles her left arm against her chest while using her right hand to cup your face with a tenderness surprising to all but you.

Your head rests in her lap, eyes never leaving hers.

“H—” the sound of her name dies in your chest, outmatched by the dryness of your throat and the cloudiness of your mind.

A small smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes plays across Helena’s lips as she hushes you, “save your strength, my love. I am by your side, always.”

“Reiner, I—” her voice cracks as she looks down on you, and she takes along moment before attempting to speak again, “I owe you… everything.”

His hands lift from your chest, taking the warm sensation with them, but no pain replaces it.

“There are no debts among comrades, Helena.” You can hear the smile in his voice, mingling with fatigue. You’re grateful she had the strength and kindness of his presence in the moments before you awoke. “However, I would like to heal your arm now that the immediate danger has passed.”

He moves to reach for her. Helena recoils away so quickly it startles you both.

“No.”

Stunned into silence, Reiner’s arms linger in the air momentarily before he recovers, a question still hanging between them.

“I mean… No, thank you. Not yet.”

She won’t meet his eyes, and doesn’t offer further explanation. She pulls her good hand away from you, but not before you notice it begin to tremble.

“I see… I suspect it’s time to relieve Iseul of watch in any case. If you change your mind, you need only ask.”

The sounds of his retreating footsteps have long faded by the time Helena speaks again, her voice so quiet that her words risk being lost in the night’s slow breeze, “I was foolish to believe I would never have to feel her hands on me again.”

Guilt settles heavy in the pit of your stomach. All she’s endured over the last few days physically and emotionally, the way she’s pushed herself, was entirely for you. You remember what the Witch Queen said about Helena’s mind and body lacking the fear of self-destruction. Tears make your vision blur once more.

You make to reach for her and your hand falls short mid-air. Helena catches it in her still-shaking fingers and brings it up to her face. She leans against your touch, as feeble as it is, and closes her eyes for what might be the first time in three days.

“I will not make it through this without you.”

Her words sound like both a promise and a plea. They’re a vow that she won’t leave you behind, a desperate prayer that you won’t leave her before the end. It doesn’t matter what she means: this moment, this war, or this life. You intend to be there for all of it, grounding her every step of the way.

That you can be such an exploitable vulnerability and an undeniable source of strength simultaneously is difficult to reconcile. All you can do is hope that one day there will be no nightmares lurking in the shadows set to take advantage of what you share.

Intertwining your fingers with hers, you pull both of your hands down to rest over your heart, hoping that she can feel its steady rhythm and understand that every beat means “I love you”, each time deeper than the last.

 

 


	4. after it was over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war is won, but what does victory truly mean?
> 
> Set immediately after the killing blow. Hurt/Comfort.

The world stills when it happens, the universe itself waiting in doubt and suspicion, prolonging the moment beyond sense of time. Onlookers hold their breath like the very air from their lungs might revive her. Both sides anticipated more theatrics to her end, but she doesn’t crumble to ash before their eyes, or fade into oblivion like a specter that only truly existed in the mind, or explode into tiny little pieces that all serve as offering to the land she tore asunder.

It’s mercifully anticlimactic, and you can see no greater justice than that. In death, she looks as human as the countless slain by her hand and in her name. In death, she is denied godhood. All that remains is a body. A body like any other, and the ghosts she left behind.

Helena stands above her, a statue of preparedness. Jaw clenched, eyes fierce and unblinking. Her guard was built over years through blood and bruises and hauntings that still won’t let it falter until she’s sure.

You watch her. You try to guess how she’ll react to what she’s done so that you can be what she needs. There’s no way to know, not really. You wouldn’t blame her if she collapsed in a fit of tears, relief entwined with regret, a twisted and beautiful type of mourning. It would surprise you if she cheered. She never was one for such expressions of joy.

A horn blows across the battlefield before you feel prepared, and then another. The space is flooded with sound and motion. Metal clangs everywhere, pieces of armor clashing against one another as a retreat is made. There are huzzahs of triumph so complete one might think everyone forgot the bodies littered all around. The sun returns.

Helena is shaken from her certainty that something must come next. You witness it play across her features. She takes a breath, and closes her eyes. It must be the first in years. Weary but alive, her whole body relaxes.

She throws down her still-bloodied blades as if the hilts burn her palms. In the same motion, her hand catches one of your own and it’s the only indication that she’s aware of the world around her at all. Her grip is sure, but only tight enough that she knows you won’t be separated in the chaos of the celebration.

You follow her when she turns to leave.

The journey through the crowd is slow. You’re unable to see her face or hear her voice, but you suspect she must be casting a cloaking spell when you weave through the mass of soldiers unnoticed.

Helena leads you from the battlefield and into the surrounding forest, her steps steady until you reach a clearing and come to a stop before a small stream coursing through it. Finally releasing your hand, she kneels to wash the blood from her fingers.

She still hasn’t spoken a word, though she seems much calmer than you feared. The desire to give her time to take stock of her thoughts and feelings allows you to appreciate your surroundings more completely.

The clearing is almost idyllic. There are flowers here that you should definitely know the names and meaning of by now. The water hums a comforting tune. Sunlight pours through the treetops and the shadows it creates remind you more of childhood puppet shows than ghosts. It’s hard to believe such a place could exist untouched by the unforgiving war, the aftermath of which can still be heard and smelt in its short distance from the sanctuary.

“Are you wounded?”

The question is sudden, but soft and familiar enough not to startle. She’s standing only a few steps away from you before you’ve noticed her turn around at all. Her eyes flit across your face searching for any indication of pain or discomfort.

“I don’t think so.”

“… May I check?”

You nod, ready to fall back into the routine you two have practiced more times than you care to remember. You remember that, with any luck, this will be the last time she needs this sort of intimacy after the harshness of a fight. You stand still, arms raised, as she unbuckles your armor with ease, leaving you in the thin material you wear below it. After setting each piece down beside her, she returns to you. Brow creased together in concentration, she runs her hands tenderly over your body, eyes attentive to your reactions as they follow the trails her touch paves.

Finally satisfied, she kisses your forehead and takes a step back, lifting her arms slightly in offering of the chance to return the favor and finish the ritual. You take it, gladly, note all the places of her that seem to ache most, and fill with relief with each bloodstain on her clothes that doesn’t seem to be her own.

The ground is softened by the moisture in the air as you sit, inviting her down beside you with a hand and a smile. Helena pulls you into her lap the moment she joins you; your arms wrap around one another with equal and simultaneous fervor.

You feel her whisper more than you hear it as she hides her face against your neck, “will you stay with me, even now, my love?”

Her question sinks in and your heart drops. 

“Helena…”

In that moment you want nothing more to cry out promises like “forever” over and over again until it fills up the world around you and changes the color of the sky. You want to say that the deepest parts of you are certain of nothing but the knowledge that this universe does not have the power it would take to tear you from her side. You want her to ask if you’d be her wife again just so that you could say yes as many times as it would take for her to understand.

Instead, you take a moment to think about her question again. You push back against the gut-reaction, and clear your heart to consider what fears might be lurking in her words.

Pulling back just far enough to wipe the tears from her cheeks, you do the best to level your voice and ask, “what do you mean ‘even now’?”

Helena’s own voice is strained as she does her best to explain what weighs on her, “there is a chance that this victory has made the circumstances of my pardon irrelevant. If the people ask for retribution, then—!”

“You’re afraid they’ll put you on trial again?”

“I am afraid… that this was still not enough to earn a future”

Her head hangs. Shame and barely-contained terror radiate off of her in waves. The two of you seem to exist farther away from the soldiers’ cheers than you remember.

Helena has come a long way since you met her, but she still sees danger lurking around the corner of every deed that would have earned the Witch Queen’s disapproval. You watched her wrestle with it every step of the way, deciding to do the right thing again and again when the lessons beaten into her still scream to choose otherwise. 

“Please look at me, Helena.”

You use your finger to lift her chin towards you, and it doesn’t take long for her to meet your eyes once more.

“Nobody is going to punish you for killing her, I promise.”

Tears fill her eyes as soon as the words leave your mouth, and you have to resist the urge to apologize for hitting a nerve so directly.

“I know how hard it is for you, but I have to believe that what the world wants most right now is to heal. You just made this place so much safer and kinder for everyone, Helena. You did exactly what you wanted to do, and you don’t need to be afraid of what happens next. This is the part where you enjoy your peace.”

The blue of her irises brighten in recognition of the words, a fragment of a conversation from what feels like a century ago. So much has changed since then, including Helena, and you couldn’t be more proud of the way you’ve grown together.

Helena’s smile spreads slowly until it mirrors your own. Finding your hands, she brings them to her lips and presses a lingering kiss against them that makes your stomach do cartwheels.

Eyes alight with awe as they gaze up at you, she lets the words “love of my life…” hang in the air between you, each second that passes altogether enchanting. You try to think of every possible way she could end the sentence so your heart doesn’t burst when she finishes it, and still you’re unprepared.

“This is  _our_ peace.”

For the first time, her lips meet yours in a kinder and safer world than the one your love started in. It’s everything you fought for, and all you ever hoped to earn. Fears of the future fade away with the promise that it will be shared, no matter what comes.


	5. when we were scared

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helena's even quieter than normal, but sometimes words closest to the heart are the hardest to summon.
> 
> A moment yet to come. Hurt/Comfort & Fluff.

Being exposed to the prickling cold of the night’s breeze is a small price to pay for the view of the starlight’s reflection on the garden below. Violets, pinks, and blues paint a picture of the world unmolested by reality’s hardships, reminding you of your hopes for better days to come. You can just make out the last lights of the neighboring village still burning in the distance, the flames a steadfast companion for its people as they offer themselves to whatever dreams await. It’s the most peaceful night the region’s had in some time, and you can’t help but feel rejuvenated by its simplicity.

“I could stay out here forever,” the sentence leaves your lips without your permission, and you look in the direction it was spoken as if your eyes could catch it.

Helena stares out into the darkness, her gaze locked somewhere you can’t find. She doesn’t seem to hear you despite your proximity, and you aren’t surprised that she doesn’t react.

She was practically non-verbal the whole day, and you spent much of it stressing over what might be bothering her. You’re accustomed to her quiet nature; you find it soothing more often than not. Something about this particular brand of silence, though, fills you with a nagging anxiety. Even the retainers seemed to notice her distance at supper, used to her soft amusement at their antics and occasional snarky response. 

Nothing seems to be wrong, per se. She was responsive each time you asked if she was feeling all right, or wanted to leave a common area. Her mind seemed to be elsewhere, though, from the moment she awoke.

You went as far as asking Alain if he had any idea about it, who she spoke with just before she came to bed last night. He said, “the words hardest to summon are often the ones closest to our hearts” before promptly excusing himself and avoiding you for the rest of the evening.

As cryptic as the brief conversation was, it did bolster your decision to wait until she was ready to share her thoughts with you rather than pushing the issue. Despite your anxiousness, you were prepared to give her whatever space she needed, and only followed her out to the balcony earlier because she led you by the hand.

Now, even in her silence, she still hasn’t let it go. Helena’s grip tightens every time the wind blows, like she’s worried its force might carry you away. 

“I love you.”

It’s the first thing she’s said in hours. A shiver passes through your spine and you don’t think it’s because of the cold.

“It feels as if I have loved you for several lifetimes already, and will love you still for several more, even if this is the last one in which we meet.”

You feel a battle begin between your emotions. Half of you nearly starts crying the same way you did when she called you the love of her life for the first time on this same balcony. Unease settles heavily in the pit of your stomach on behalf of the other part, the part hyper-aware of the fact that she still isn’t looking at you.

“I wish you sounded happier about that.”

“I find myself in a… difficult… position.”

Squeezing her hand if for nothing else but to remind her that you’re there, you can only hope you don’t sound as small as you think you do when you say, “please tell me what’s going on.”

Whatever’s in your voice finally breaks her fixation on that spot in the distance, and she turns her gaze down to your joined hands.

“I cannot give you the life you hope for.”

You take a step towards her like closing the distance between you might be enough to stop your world from shattering, “Helena—”

“Please… let me say this.”

You wouldn’t be able to speak clearly if you tried. You’ve stared down people intent to kill you more times than you care to remember, but you’ve never felt so close to losing everything. You wrap your arms tightly around her waist, and crane your neck upwards until you meet her blue eyes directly.

She doesn’t look away. You can’t decide if that’s better or worse.

“Safety and peace are not certain features in any future with me. You need to understand… even if we win this war, I— there will still be people who would see you hurt for nothing more than that it would hurt me, and their cause would be righteous, the pain something I owe them in spades. Perhaps were I a less selfish person, that would be enough to discourage this. Yet here I remain doing nothing to dissuade you from further tethering your heart to mine.”

Every cell in your body screams that it’s far too late for that. 

Helena’s hands find a home on your shoulders and you can feel her fingers begin to fidget with your cape.

“You found something twisted and corrupt and you saw a person worth saving. I want nothing more than to repay you for that with the promise that someday things will be easier, but I cannot. I will never walk among a crowd of innocents as if I am one of them. My body, my heart, and my mind will never be untouched by forces that make each of them uniquely challenging to live with. Even now I realize that my disposition has frightened you when that was the very last of my intentions.”

Helena takes a moment to kiss away the tears now openly streaming down your face, expressions of words she asked you to hold back until she’s finished. It does nothing to settle your heart, instead sending it in the exact opposite direction it’d been moments ago.

“It is important that you understand nothing about the path before us now is safe or simple. I fear that a life with me is a life where you will struggle more than you deserve to. I cannot promise you the future that you hope for, but I promise I am yours, and I will be yours until the last breath I take carries me into a life where I can be yours again.”

You can barely breathe, the air around you dissipating to make room for you and Helena and nothing else. She presses her forehead against yours, and cups your cheeks with both hands.

“Helena…” is all you can manage, her name suddenly the only thing in your vocabulary.

Feeling her next words more than you hear them, each syllable takes hold in your chest and threatens to grow so large it capsizes. “I want to be your wife. Would you be mine, even if—?”

You’re physically incapable of letting her finish the sentence, instead throwing your arms around her neck capturing her lips in a kiss unlike any of the countless you’ve shared before. 

The truth is that you can’t pinpoint the exact moment you chose Helena, but you can hardly remember a time without the certainty you would gladly spend the rest of your life loving her. She is the only future you hope for, and nothing that this world or the next has to offer is worth being without her.

All the love and devotion you have to give is conveyed without words, and you don’t have to hope that she understands. A smile spreads across her face and then yours, making it hard to keep kissing but giving you the time you need to say “yes” over and over until the word hardly sounds real.

You think you could stay in that moment forever, happily building a perfect life together in the space of a single, peaceful night. Instead you choose all the moments afterwards.

**Author's Note:**

> find me @helenaklein on tumblr! comments are encouraged and appreciated x


End file.
